


Halloween Heroes

by fallenhurricane



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Halloween, M/M, Please Don't Hate Me, also i suck at endings so i apologize, and they are dressed as superheroes and trying to be such, but stiles finds derek is attractive because duh, in which stiles and derek are not yet a couple, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 11:42:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2546291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenhurricane/pseuds/fallenhurricane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reverse trick-or-treating should be a thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Halloween Heroes

Stiles loves Halloween.  He loves his costume — Star-lord, of course, the Chris Pratt movie version — and he loves candy and he loves using the holiday as an excuse to annoy the hell out of Derek.

 

Not that he really needs an excuse, really, but it’s nice to have one nonetheless. 

 

Also, he somehow managed to get Derek to dress up as a sort of Renner-esque Hawkeye (after he refused to be Dick Grayson, Wolverine, and even a werewolf version of Beast. He also turned down Dax the Destroyer, which Stiles maybe suggested mostly because Derek would be shirtless all night and also he would probably need help with the body paint).  Being Hawkeye, he’s just wearing a black wife beater and tight black jeans with his typical boots and a quiver and bow borrowed from Allison.  She wouldn’t loan them any arrows, though.  Stiles shoved some sticks in the quiver and knows he was going to get crap from Allison for getting dirt in her quiver, but, c’mon, it’s Halloween!

 

And since it’s Halloween, Stiles plans to spend the whole night shoving copious amounts of Reese’s Cups into his face and walking from door to door in hopes of finding more.

 

Derek just won’t comply. 

 

“Dude, it’s _Hallow-fricking-ween,_ ” Stiles says, hands on his hips, standing by the door to Derek’s loft.  Derek is perched on his sofa, eyebrows raised in an unconcerned kind of way, eyes on the television. _“_ The whole point is to show off your costume!  And since there’s no way in hell I’m going to convince you to go to Danny’s party, we have to go trick-or-treating!”

 

“I’m 26, Stiles.”  Derek swings the quiver over his head and sets it on the floor, lounging back on the sofa.

 

“Congratulations.  Would you like a medal?”

 

“Maybe,” Derek muses, using the remote to flip through channels.  “Would you leave to get it?  Like, right now?”

 

“Asshole.”  Stiles drags his feet to the sofa and collapses next to Derek.  “Please, Derek?  Pleaaaase?  Don’t make me go alone, that’s just sad.”

 

Derek huffs out a laugh.  “You’re 18 and begging to go trick-or-treating.  It’s already sad.”

 

“You’re never too old for Halloween!” Stiles protests.  He pats his stomach, frowning.  “Think of all the candy we could be getting right now.  My stomach hurts just imagining all the sugar I could be forcing into it at this very moment, if you would just get your ass off the couch.”

 

A massive orange bowl lands in his lap a second later, filled with candy.  “Here.  Moderate yourself.  I don’t need you in a sugar coma; you’re not sleeping here.”

 

Stiles glances at Derek, who’s still watching the television.  “I can’t eat this,” he argues, even while unwrapping a Reese’s Pumpkin.  “It’s for the kids who come to the door.”

 

Derek shrugs.  “Nobody ever trick-or-treats here anyway.”

“In the entire building?” Stiles asks around a mouthful of chocolate.

 

“To my apartment.”  
  
“Gee, I can’t imagine why kids aren’t dying to knock on the big bad wolf’s door and ask him for a Snickers bar.”

 

Derek doesn’t grace that with a response other than a low growl.  Stiles rolls his eyes, picking a  small bag of Skittles out of the bowl and ripping it open.  He shoves all of them in his mouth and says, “What was the point of you even dressing up if you’re not going to go anywhere?”

 

“I wanted to get you to shut up, mostly.  Apparently it didn’t work.  And neither did the candy.”  Derek gestured to Stiles, who was still at work chewing the Skittles, saying “That’s disgusting” before continuing to flick through television channels.

 

Finally he settles on a Andy Griffiths rerun, which leads Stiles to wonder what exactly Derek’s taste in entertainment is, but he continues eating in silence.  Finally, the episode ends, and Stiles groans, absolutely bored.  This is not what Halloween’s about.  

 

Derek’s watching the theme to another episode, tapping his finger on his knee to the whistling, when Stiles speaks up.  “Can I ask you a question?” 

 

“I’m not going trick-or-treating.”

 

“Oh man, I’m so glad you told me, I was really confused about your decision on that.”  Derek turns to glare at him, and Stiles sticks his tongue out in response.  “I was _going_ to ask you if you’ve ever been trick-or-treating.  You went when you were a kid, right?”

 

There are a few moments of silence — well, relative silence, since Stiles is working his way through a Milky Way — before Derek responds, voice soft.  “My parents took all of us a few times.  With six kids, I think it was kind of a hassle for them.  Laura was the pickiest about her costume, too.  One year, she made my mom restitch her Snow White costume five times.  And we all always ended up arguing over candy, but we still had fun.  Then, when I got to high school, I figured I was too old and it was stupid to keep going.  The last time I went with them was my freshman year.  They asked me to go the next year, but I didn’t want to, and they got mad at me, and then a week later….”

 

The fire.  Stiles knew that much, that the fire happened in early November.  His hand twitches and he places it on Derek’s arm.  Derek’s muscle’s tense for a second.  Stiles was somewhat surprised at Derek actually answering without being sarcastic.  “My mom used to take me every year.  We would get back to the house and she would let me pick out five pieces of candy, and then hide the rest.  But she always put it in the bread box, and after she went to bed, I would sneak downstairs and eat until my stomach hurt.”  He doesn’t want candy anymore.  He sets the bowl on the couch between he and Derek and slowly picks up the wrappers littering his lap, crushing them in his fist.  The room is silent, but comfortable.

 

“You should take that home with you,” Derek finally says, pointing to the bowl.  “I don’t need it around here.”

 

Stiles shakes his head, shoving the wrappers in his pocket.  “I can’t.  My dad will find it, and he’ll eat it, and then he’ll get worked up when I tell him he can’t have any more.”

 

Derek nods, turning back to the television.  Stiles chews his lip, thinking.  Neither of them want to go trick-or-treating anymore, but sitting in the loft in the dark watching an old show isn’t how he wants to spend the night either.  And there’s a huge bowl of candy to get rid of.  And they have costumes to show off.  And Derek’s cool car to drive around in.

 

Bingo.

 

“Derek,” he says.  “I have an idea.”

 

* * *

 

“How did I let you talk me into this?”  Derek reaches through the window of the Camaro, grabbing a plastic bag shaped like a pumpkin out of the basket on the seat.  His leather jacket wrinkles slightly, and Stiles sighs, because the jacket totally ruins the aesthetic of Derek’s costume (and also, shamefully, hides his glorious muscles).  But it’s chilly out, and Derek’s completely ignoring Stiles’ perfectly sound reasoning.  “This is so weird.”

 

Stiles grins, taking the bag from him and leading the way up the sidewalk to the front door.  “Dude, this is great.”  He steps onto the dark porch, hearing Derek sigh behind him, and knocks on the door.  It opens not long after.

 

The woman who opens it frowns at them.  “I’m sorry, I’m afraid we’re not giving out candy tonight.”  A little girl is peering around her leg, and the woman runs her hand over the girl’s head.  “That’s why the lights are off.”

 

Stiles smiles.  “That’s okay, we’re actually here to give this to you!”  He holds the bag, heavy with various candy bars, out to her.  “It’s kind of a reverse trick-or-treat.  We come to you.” 

 

The woman takes the bag, looking confused.  “I — thank you,” she says as the little girl reaches for the bag.  “That’s so nice of you.”

 

The girl looks up at them and whispers, “Are you superheroes?” and Stiles swears his heart swells a bit.

 

“We are,” Stiles says, pulling his mask down over his face for a second.  He flashes her a thumbs up before sliding it off again.  “I’m Star-lord, and this is Hawkeye," he says, gesturing to Derek with his thumb.

 

“Thank you,” she says. 

 

“It’s our pleasure,” Derek says warmly, and Stiles’ smile widens.  

 

“Have a nice night!”  Stiles turns and he and Derek make their way back to the car, hearing the door close behind them.  

 

Stiles climbed into the passenger seat, balancing the basket full of bags on his lap.  Derek slides behind the wheel and backs out of the driveway.  He glances at Stiles.  “I’m surprised people are even accepting these.  What kind of people bring candy, unwarranted, to your front door and give it to you for absolutely nothing?”

 

“Superheroes, Hawkeye.  Onward!”  
  


 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know, friends. Barely anyone in my neighborhood goes trick-or-treating, so this happened while I was manning the door with a bowl of candy. I apologize for the ending- I'm not great at them. If I come up with a better one, I might edit and repost, but this is how it stands currently. I hope it was alright! Thank you for reading! <3


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